


Mirror, Mirror

by BeastOfTheSea



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dark!Harry, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-16
Updated: 2012-09-16
Packaged: 2017-11-14 09:39:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/513868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeastOfTheSea/pseuds/BeastOfTheSea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How little things change.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mirror, Mirror

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: At this point, do I even own the plot? I obviously don't own Harry Potter, though.

_The Dark Lord is dead –_

_Long live the Dark Lord!_

 

It wasn’t so hard to accept the change; where one Dark Lord had sat, another ruled, and few saw a difference. Oh, he had a different name for his followers – different policies for his reign – different rhetoric for his causes – but it was the same, in the end. To the average wizard, it mattered little how he justified himself or what he was called. One ruthless Parselmouth was much the same as another; ideals meant little to those screaming their minds away under the Cruciatus or pleading for their lives as a monstrous serpent loomed before them and opened its terrible jaws wide.

 

After a time, one could even forget – if one had cared about such trivia in the first place – whether, once upon a time, his scarlet eyes had been dark brown or brilliant green. Whether the phoenix-feather wand had been made of holly or yew was irrelevant, when its owner wielded the Elder Wand as if Antioch Peverell had crafted it solely for him. When four Houses were reduced to one, did it matter whether it was called Slytherin or Gryffindor? When his best lieutenant hunted down the last pockets of resistance, strolling into safe-houses turned into deathtraps and cackling as the blood of traitors flowed across the floor, their pleas for mercy only the purest hilarity to her, who cared whether her hair was raven black or fiery red?

 

And when he led his armies against the Muggles, seeking vengeance for his hell of a childhood, to whom in the world did it matter whether he had been raised in a cupboard or an orphanage?

 

_As the nineteenth anniversary of our Lord’s reign approaches, we must remind you to not concern yourself with unpatriotic rumors, citizens; rest assured –_

All is well.


End file.
